


Lost, Lost

by fishfingersandjellybabies



Series: Husbands AU [5]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Phobias
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-03 21:33:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4115629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishfingersandjellybabies/pseuds/fishfingersandjellybabies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’d thought he was getting better. But phobias were phobias, and they attacked without mercy. Damian just wished he could do more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost, Lost

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve had this idea for a while, and finally got a bit of inspiration/motivation from a song. According to a five-minute-research sesh earlier, Colin has a shit-ton of phobias, which I knew, but the ones I had in mind/incorporated into his nightmare were his abandonment issues, fear of strangers and claustrophobia. Damian definitely takes the next day off, and they spend it lying in bed all day/Colin remorsefully tending to Damian’s wounds. Inspired/Based on: ‘Ancient Light’ by Allman Brown.

~~

_Love is all that’s left to lose._

_Lost, lost. But not alone anymore._

~~

Colin’s panting breath was hot against his throat, his nails sharp against Damian’s skin. Damian grunted as Colin pushed them towards the mattress’s edge, trying to coordinate himself enough in his sleep-hazed mind to wrap his calf around Colin’s knees. It took a moment, but when he finally succeeded, he used his momentum to turn them further, pinning Colin on his back as he straddled his hips.

On any other night this would be a pleasant position.

“Colin.” Damian croaked, failing to avoid the fist that came towards his cheek. He blinked a few times as he wrestled the trembling hand down, intertwining their fingers as he grabbed Colin’s opposite wrist. Colin’s wedding ring was cold between Damian’s fingers. “Beloved, _wake up_.”

Colin didn’t, his heavy breathing quickly heading towards hyperventilation. His eyes remained squeezed shut.

“Get me outta here, _get me outta here_.” Colin wheezed. Suddenly, he bucked upwards, and Damian was embarrassed to say it almost threw him. _“No!”_

Damian sighed. Not this again.

“Damian, _Damian_. Please,” Colin whispered, though not to the man sitting on him. Still in his dream, still in his phobia-riddled nightmare. It happened from time to time. Once every other month or so, if Damian had to measure it, though hadn’t occurred in ages. It broke his heart every time, but he was used to it. They both were. Part of their package of flaws. Damian and his lack of self-worth, Colin and his phobias. Damian was just grateful he was here this time, as opposed to off-world like the _last_ episode. “Please. Oh god, Damian, _please_ don’t leave me.”

“Never.” Damian promised, crushing Colin’s fingers between his, trying to pinch the flesh on his wrist. Anything to gently wake his husband from the terror. “Never, Colin. I am right here, listen to my voi-”

“Please don’t leave, please don’t…” Colin’s voice suddenly hitched. “Please don’t _take him_ ,” Instantly, every muscle in his body tightened. “Please, get me out of this _fucking box!_ ”

Colin suddenly broke his wrist free, reaching desperately out in front of him. His hand immediately hit Damian’s chest, and he began to claw at it, as if it were some sort of lid. Though, Damian realized with a flinch, as two of Colin’s nails tore through his skin, to Colin, it probably was.

The fears were escalating, piling onto each other one by one. And, as Colin kept scratching, kept pushing and panting and sweating, harder and harder and _harder_ , Damian knew the Venom laced in his system would soon come into play. When it did, any control Colin might have would be lost. And, with the phobias clouding his judgment, there was a good chance Colin could kill him before he had a chance to get away.

(Not that Damian would ever leave him. Not in this state, not for his own safety, not for any reason. For better or for worse, for sickness and health, that’s what they’d _said_ , that’s what they’d _promised_.)

“Colin,” Damian repeated, taking hold of Colin’s wrist once more, but not moving it. Just cradling it against his now bleeding chest as he leaned down, as he tried to blanket himself over Colin’s torso. Colin gave a little whimper, continuing to flex his muscles as Damian forced him still. Gently, Damian hooked his chin over Colin’s scalp, let the other scream against his collarbone as he held firm against Colin’s kicking. “Colin, you’re safe.”

He knew the words wouldn’t reach him. Knew they weren’t going to wake Colin, or fight off the horror. They were utterly useless. But he said them anyway. Said them, and hoped.

Hoped this wasn’t the episode that Colin couldn’t dig himself out of. Hoped this wasn’t the mental attack that would shatter his beloved’s mind. Hoped this wasn’t the breakdown that he himself feared most of all.

“You’re safe, my love.” Damian whispered, and really, it was probably all for himself. Anything to block out the sounds of Colin’s terror, anything to erase the sounds of Colin’s building sobs. Slowly, he closed his eyes. “I have you.”

Damian doesn’t know how long they sat there – long enough to endure seven kicks to the back, four more fits of nails digging into his chest, three more pleas of release from a box, eight more begs for Damian not to disappear, and the quiet tears to become a streaming waterfall – before anything changed. Before Colin stopped trembling, replacing it with quick jerks, almost like he was about to drop into a seizure. He went quiet for a few seconds, then began moaning and grunting, like he was exerting a lot of effort.

“I can’t.” He ground out. Suddenly he held his hand flat against Damian’s chest before slapping it, over and over with each word. “I. Can’t. Get. Out.”

“You _can_.” Damian promised. “You _will_.”

“I can’t. It’s caving in.” Hopelessness echoed through his eerily calm words. “It’s _caving_ …!”

Colin gasped, and suddenly, everything was still.

Then, there was the flutter of eyelashes against Damian’s shoulder.

“Damian…?” Colin breathed, loosening his death grip on Damian’s hand as Damian felt his head turn upwards.

“See?” Damian smiled weakly, glancing downwards. “I told you you could get out.”

Realization melted into Colin’s hazel eyes as he ran his fingers down Damian’s inflamed chest, across the scratches and over the bruises as he tugged his trapped hand out from between their bodies.

“Oh, Damian…” Colin’s tone was watery as Damian buried his nose in Colin’s hair, shifted to release his own pinned hand. “I-it was awful. I…I couldn’t breathe, I…I couldn’t fight, I…”

“Shh.” Damian cooed as Colin’s shuddering started back up. He unwound their hands, sliding his fingers tenderly down Colin’s arm until he could wrap both his arms around the redhead, and hold him tight. Colin went with the motion, pressing his face into Damian’s neck as he repeated the gesture. Damian felt the now-warm metal of Colin’s wedding band press desperately into the space between his shoulder blades. “You’re fine.”

“I’m sorry.” Colin murmured shakily as Damian turned them to be lying on their sides. “Oh, Damian, I’m so sorry.”

“As I have told you before.” Damian said gently, ghosting his fingers over Colin’s cool, sweaty spine. He imagined Colin’s flesh was pale, paler than normal, probably almost sickly-looking, and was grateful for the darkness of the night to hide that detail from him. “It’s not your fault. It never _has_ been, nor _will_ be.”

“The therapy…” Colin murmured, muscles tensing around Damian’s torso like Damian was some sort of lifeline. “I thought it was working this time.”

“I still believe it is. It’s been months since your last nightmare like this. And the Venom didn’t activate this time.” Damian hummed, listening as Colin’s breathing slowed, as he tried to regain some sense of control. “But I’ll call the doctor in the morning.”

“Okay.” Colin sighed, almost as if he was ashamed. “…Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“No, I mean. _Thank you_.” Colin repeated. Damian felt his husband’s grip tighten once more around him, felt Colin press as close as possible, even twisting their legs together. Possessive, terrified, remorseful. “For staying with me. Tonight. Always. Even when I…when I hurt you. I…I’m still used to waking up from these stupors and being just as alone in the real world as I am there.”

“What is it you always tell me _? ‘You’re not alone anymore, Damian Wayne, and you never will be again. So get used to it.’_ ” Damian mimicked, brushing his nose against Colin’s temple. “Perhaps, Beloved, you should take your own advice.” He tried to lean back then, just a little, to get a look at Colin’s face. “Now, do you think you will be able to go back to sleep?”

“Probably not.” Colin glanced up through his bangs. “Will you?”

“I’m not tired.” Damian lied with a smirk. Colin saw right through it, and his eyes widened with guilt. “But I would rather just lie here with you anyway.”

_I’d rather stay until you’re calm. Hold you until I know your fears won’t hurt you anymore._

“Oh, jeez.” Colin glanced away in embarrassment, shoving his face back against Damian’s throat. A second later, Damian felt the press of apologetic lips against his pulse. “…You had the choice of any human being in existence, and you got stuck with the one guy scared of everything.”

“I suppose I did.” Damian laughed, running his hand up Colin’s back and around his shoulder, until he could cup his cheek and turn it upwards. Softly, he ran his thumb through the drying tear track on his lover’s face, smiling softly as he pushed their foreheads together. “And I still can’t believe I got so lucky.”


End file.
